


Magnum Opus

by winterfool



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6318013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterfool/pseuds/winterfool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry isn't quite sure what to do when he finds himself developing feelings for Luna Lovegood, the newest employee at his family's bookshop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnum Opus

Those who knew wizarding London well knew that, buried in the twists and turns of Diagon Alley, there are many small shops that were, if you took the time to look, places to treasure.

They were places that often went overlooked next to the more famous establishments, but as their owners would tell you this did not make them worth any less. If anything (some might say), it made them unsung heroes, plodding on without the recognition they so richly deserved.

Of course, there were those who would disagree. There was a reason, they would say, why these shops weren’t as popular or well known; their stock was limited, their premises slightly run down, their clientele just a little bit shabby. These shops didn’t try and market themselves as anything special so their proprietors could hardly be surprised when people sought quality service elsewhere.

The counter argument was that the people who took this view were bitter, entitled snobs who cared more about price than value and wouldn’t know quality if it came up and bit them in the arse.

Or at least that was the counter argument offered by the owner of one such ‘overlooked’ shop, a small, second-hand bookshop nestled in a corner between Sugarplum’s Sweets and Amanuensis Quills. It was a bit more blunt than some might phrase it, but, well, it wasn’t wrong.

Despite what some might have thought, Magnum Opus did quite well for itself. It might not have been the flashiest of shops but its silver-and-purple painted shop front had stood for nearly half a century, run first by Fleamont and Euphemia Potter and then, after their deaths, by their son James, his wife, Lily, and in recent years, their own son Harry.

As Lily had said more than once, if James’ lack of tact didn’t stop people from coming to the shop then they were bound to be successful.

Certainly, whether it was something in the golden polish of the wooden shelves, the obvious care given to the books on them no matter how battered and dog-eared, or just James’ and Lily’s smiles as they served their customers, there was a warmth to the little establishment that drew people back, to browse and read for a while, or to chat with the Potters.

Although lately, it hadn’t been just the Potters.

Leaning on the counter, ostensibly minding the till in case a customer came in, Harry did his best to look as if he was actually working and not watching Luna Lovegood, Magnum Opus’ newest employee, as she re-stacked the shelves on the other side of the shop.

He blamed the fact that she was facing away from him, so he couldn’t see her face, just her long blonde curls that were half pinned up with - was that her actual wand? - and half left loose to fall down her back. Something about the way they caught the light, gleaming a kind of burnished gold, was so distracting, of course he would look.

(He tried not to think about the fact that he knew he would be looking even if she was facing him, because she had the most fascinating eyes he had ever seen, clear and grey and filled with an endless enthusiasm for life. Because he really shouldn’t be thinking anything of the sort about someone who worked for his family.) 

She was humming as she worked, a wordless melody that didn’t seem to stick to any particular key but moved up and down at random, making Harry fairly certain she was inventing it as she went along. The thought made the corner of his mouth curl up in a small half smile.

Noticing that she was straining on tiptoes to reach the top shelves, he called across, “Need some help?”

She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Nah, not at all.”

When he stood next to her, he was reminded how small she really was, the top of her head only coming up to just above his shoulder. It was odd, somehow, since she never seemed small; her presence was quiet but steady, a candle flame emanating gentle warmth and light that filled whatever room she was in.

Taking the books from her, he glanced at the spines to see where they were meant to go. Luna reached up to point out the right places, and as she did a waft of her perfume, or maybe her shampoo, light and slightly fruity, drifted over him. Without really meaning to he took a deep breath to smell it better, then realised what he was doing and fumbled the books, almost dropping them in his embarrassment. 

Coughing, he started talking to try and cover his slip. “We should probably get a ladder for this … I suppose it’s just never really crossed our minds since Dad and I can reach without one.”

Luna shrugged and said in a thoughtful voice, “Well, I could always just use a spell to levitate them. But it seems … wasteful, somehow.”

Bemused by her choice of words Harry glanced down her, only to find her eyes fixed on him with an odd, speculative look. It almost made him wonder … but the next moment it was gone, and he wasn’t sure if it had been there at all.

“… wasteful?”

“Using magic for such trivial things.”

Harry thought about that for a moment. “My mum’s a bit like that. She thinks it’s because she grew up a muggle. She doesn’t want to forget she’s capable of doing things herself because she’s so used to doing them with magic.”

“Yes, exactly.” Luna nodded.

“But then, what’s the point of having magic if you don’t use it?”

“That’s a good question. I suppose you have to find a kind of balance.” She paused, and then added, “Just like the rest of life, really.”

The last words were said with a kind of dreamy thoughtfulness, and she absently ran one finger over the spines of the books in front of her as she spoke. Talking with Luna was always like this, somehow bypassing ordinary smalltalk for more philosophical topics, like refusing to the test the waters in favour of diving headfirst into the sea and letting the waves carry you where they would. Harry found he enjoyed it more often than not, though.

Glancing at her, he said with a smile, “We’ll definitely have to get you a ladder then. So you can choose whether or not you want to be trivial with your magic.”

She laughed, and the sound seemed to trail over Harry’s skin like silk. “I’d like that.”

Pleased, he slid the last book into place on the shelf and then turned to face her properly. “Seriously, though, if there is anything we can do … you know, to be more accommodating … like a ladder or anything …”

“You’ve been very accommodating.” Luna looked faintly puzzled.

“I just mean, I know it’s probably not easy … er, coming to work for a family business … it must be a little weird …”

“I don’t think so.” She smiled suddenly. “And even if it was, people do think I’m a little strange anyway, you know. So it would seem to fit.”

Harry chuckled, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He did know, ‘strange’ having been the overwhelming impression on first meeting Luna.

She had been working at Magnum Opus for a couple of months now. How was still a bit of a mystery, since she hadn’t actually been looking for a job. She had come into the shop after seeing they had a copy of Falco Agellus’ _Unexplained Magical Incidents of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries_ in the window, to ask if they had any more of Agellus’ works in stock, but after over an hour discussing various magical conspiracies and covers-up James had, on a whim, offered her a job instead.

When they were introduced, Harry had barely had time to take in what looked liked radishes swinging from her ears and a necklace made of corks before she was asking him if he shared his father’s opinion that Agellus’ findings, while by no means concrete, at the least merited further investigation?

(He did not.)

On reflection, perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was strange having someone around who wasn’t a member of his family. True, Luna was unlike anyone he had ever met and to begin with he found her odd; she seemed completely unflappable, believing in things that made no sense to him and not seeming to follow any linear progression of logic. The more time he spent working alongside her and talking with her though, as he got used to her being there and she began to fit into the pattern of his life, the less she seemed odd and the more she just … seemed like Luna.

Harry wasn’t sure he would ever entirely understand the way her mind worked, but it fascinated him nonetheless. She didn’t see the world like anyone else. She saw promise and possibility in everything, in a way that made Harry understand how people formed constellations out of stars, writing stories across the skies. And yet she was unflinchingly honest and understood the reality of the world around her. An apparent contradiction at first, but what was really, Harry was beginning to suspect, simply a different perspective.

“You’re not strange. You’re … yourself,” he offered now, not able to come up with any more eloquent words to explain.

It seemed to please Luna, though, judging by the smile that spread over her face and crinkled the skin around her eyes. “Thank you, Harry.”

“I’m glad you are here, you know. It’s been good having you in the shop … helpful, I mean, like what you did with the displays.”

He wanted to cringe at his own words, although he genuinely meant the compliment. Luna had spent hours finding books with the most colourful and interesting covers and illustrations to show around the shop and in the window, and customers were always drawn in to look at them with eager curiosity.

Luna was still looking up at him with those eyes. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

“Yeah. Right. Well, if you do think of anything you need … just, er, let me know, okay?” Realising his hands were empty he flexed them awkwardly, wishing he had another book to shelve just for something to do. “I’ll, er, go and … check the stock room. Let you get back to work.”

Sure his face must be burning red, he headed across the shop to the small door that led to the back room, which served as a kind of all-purpose break and stock room. He glanced back briefly at the door to see Luna had taken his place behind the counter. She had a book in her hands and was flipping through it, her lips still curved into a small smile.

Trying to pretend his heart hadn’t just skipped a beat, or several, Harry sighed and pushed open the door to the back room, only to find himself face to face with his father.

The back room of Magus Opus, which was used for storing unsorted donations and stock that had yet to be shelved, was, as built, a paltry six feet by eight, with very little room when there weren’t several boxes of books stacked up inside.

However, thanks to an undetectable extension charm cast by Fleamont Potter when he first bought the premises and reinforced by James after his death, the back room in fact stretched out for several feet, with enough room not only for several book cases to store the unsorted boxes, but a small common area with a sofa and two squashy armchairs, a coffee table, and a kitchenette unit where employees (that was, the family) could rest during their breaks. There was even a nook in one corner with a desk to go through the shop’s accounts and paperwork.

So there was absolutely no reason for James Potter to be leaning casually against the wall immediately next to the door into the main shop, unless he had just been eavesdropping on his son and his new employee.

Harry waited.

“What,” James levelled a finger at him, “was that?”

“What was what?” Harry tried to hedge, but his father just rolled his eyes.

“That! Out there. With Luna?”

Shrugging, Harry moved past him away from the door, attempting to affect a casual demeanor as though he didn’t have any idea what James was implying.

“A conversation? You know, when two people talk to each other?”

“ _Harry_.”

They came into the room properly as they spoke, and Harry realised that his mother was also there, going over papers at the desk. The outraged tone of her husband’s voice drew Lily’s attention, and she looked up at them with a bemused expression to ask, “What’s going on?”

“Dad won’t _mind his own business_ ,” Harry said loudly as James opened his mouth to reply, and received an affronted look in return.

“I’m so sorry for being a concerned father.”

“And just what,” Lily held up a hand to interrupt them, “is it that you’re concerned about, exactly?”

Harry closed his eyes and waited for James to tell her, so the two of them together could tell him that getting involved with someone who worked at the shop wasn’t a good idea - it would interfere with work, making dating far more complicated, all the reasons he had been going over and over himself for weeks now. He never had been able to hide anything from his parents. Perhaps it was a good thing, though; hearing it from them might really convince him that he had to stop feeling whatever it was he was feeling for Luna.

But what came out of his father’s mouth was,

“What I am concerned about, darling, is that I just witnessed possibly the worst flirting I have ever seen in my life, and it came from my own son.”

Harry’s eyes flew open. “What?”

James immediately turned on him, gesturing back towards the door. “Harry, I’m sorry, but that was terrible. You’re glad to have her in the shop because of her _window displays_?”

“Well, you can’t deny they’ve increased customer traffic.”

While Lily laughed, James just glared.

“Did your Uncle Sirius and I teach you nothing?”

“I wouldn’t say that. You did, you know, me how to fly a broom and stuff. And you helped with my transfiguration …”

“I thought we taught you how to talk to women, as well, but clearly not.”

Harry resisted the urge the roll his eyes. “And what makes you such an expert?”

James raised an eyebrow. “I got your mother to marry me, didn’t I?”

That got a snort from Lily, who was watching them with her arms folded and amusement curving her features. “Let’s not oversell yourself, now.”

When James turned to her she met his gaze with raised eyebrows, challenging him to disagree. There was a pause and then a sheepish grin spread over his face and he ran a hand through the same, messy black hair he had passed on to Harry, although his was now streaked with strands of silver.

“Admittedly,” he said, crossing the room towards her, “when you met me I was going through a phase of being, er, a total pillock. But,” Leaning his hands on the edge, he bent down to smile at her, “I did win you over in the end.”

Lily leaned forward herself, a matching smile playing about her lips. “You call six years a phase?”

“I grew out of it. Thanks in no small part to your good influence, my love.”

“Good answer,” Lily chuckled, and let him lean it the rest of the way to kiss her tenderly.

Too used to his parents’ regular displays of affection to be bothered, Harry just shook his head and waited for them to finish. When they did, James looked over at him and winked. “Told you I was good with women.”

“Oh for - !” Lily reached out and swatted James’ shoulder, but her eyes were bright and there was no real anger in it. She looked over at Harry, her expression softening. “Now, about you and Luna …”

“Mum …”

“Do you like her?”

Unable to answer - wanting to deny it, but not quite able to bring himself to lie - Harry gave a kind of half shrug and avoided Lily’s gaze.

James made an unimpressed sound. “He likes her.”

“James –”

“Lily, he’s our son. I know when he likes someone. Merlin, d’you remember when he was head over heels for that Cho Chang?”

“This isn’t like that, this is –” Harry started to say and then stopped himself.

“Different?” James shared a look with Lily. “Exactly.”

With a groan, Harry dropped down on to the sofa and tiredly rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, especially since it was something he still hadn’t been able to sort out inside his own head. When he considered talking about it, it seemed only seemed to offer more confusion.

He heard footsteps crossing the room, then his mother’s perfume wafted over him and the couch dipped as she settled down next to him. He opened his eyes when her warm hand covered his, and found her watching him with loving sympathy. It was a look he associated with comfort and safety, that made him like everything would be alright.

“It’s okay, you know.” She reached out and gently brushed his hair back. “If you like her.”

“Is it? She works here, Mum. Isn’t it going to make things too complicated?”

“Only if you let it,” she smiled. “And we’re here to help.”

Harry chewed his lip, nerves suddenly twisting his stomach into knots. Until now he thought he had been dealing with his feelings by telling himself it wasn’t a good idea to act on them, but maybe that had just been a way to avoid dealing with them entirely.

After all, if there was a chance it might work … was there really any reason not to try?

He looked up at his parents. “So what would you suggest?”

Lily squeezed his hand. “I would start by telling her how you feel.”

“Yeah … right. Probably a good place to start.” Harry glanced at the door back into the shop. Luna was behind that door. “Now?”

“You have a reason why not?” James echoed his earlier thoughts.

“Alright.” Harry got to his feet. “Wish me luck.”

As they watched him go with proud smiles, James stepped up behind Lily and slipped his hand into hers. Their fingers intertwined with the instinct of long years together, the faintest pressure a silent communication. _He’s grown up. Let’s hope it works out._

In the shop Luna was serving a customer, so Harry hung back until they had left and the echoes from the bell over the front door were fading before he approached her.

“Hey.”

“Hello,” she smiled. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Yes. Listen,” he started, then paused, realising he hadn’t quite thought through what he meant to say to her. “I was wondering … um …”

Luna tilted her head slightly, waiting. “Yes?”

“I was wondering … if you might want to do something one evening, or at the weekend … with me, I mean.”

“That sounds nice,” she said, coming out from behind the counter to stand in front of him. “Did you have something in mind?”

He gave her a wry grin. “Not exactly. But you know … when I say with me, I mean as - as a date?”

“I know.”

“Oh. You do?”

There was a pause, then gently with one hand she reached out to take his and, at the same time, rose up on to the tips of her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Her lips only lightly brushed his skin, like the gossamer touch of a butterfly wing, but he felt their pressure linger, warming him through.

“Yes, Harry. And I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Good.” Relief rushed over him with all the force of a wave and he grinned, brushed the backs of her fingers with his thumb. “I really am glad you came to work here, you know.”

Luna laughed. “So am I.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt on Tumblr. It seemed long enough to be its own one-shot rather than adding it to my drabble collection as I normally do. Also I'm posting this by way of apology for not having updated Tomorrowland in a while.


End file.
